The first and last things
by Sophia-Silfaery
Summary: Eddard Stark's final conversation with his sister and a promise that would shape the world to come.


Ned was rank with sweat and wet with blood that was not his own. The heat of battle still thrilled through his veins, dimming the ache in his muscles and the pain in his heart. He should have expected the fight. Even with the enemy now beaten in battle there were still those who clung to loyalty to the Mad King, those who he had feared would perhaps even kill their hostage to keep her from her family and those who loved her.

It seemed strange that he could care at all, after so much blood what more were eight more dead? Yet five had been his sworn brothers, men who had saved his life and whose lives he had saved in turn a hundred times over. Why now at the end of it did they have to die? Why now, with peace in sight. And of his enemy? Ser Arthur had been his hero, a man should never have to murder his heroes.

Curse these steps, he thought, they seemed to go on forever.

The scream of a woman cut suddenly through the air, joined by the high, thin cry of a child. He did not want to believe that Lyanna could make such a sound. He glanced back to meet the eye of Howland, seeing in his face the same blank exhaustion and sullen determination.

"We must hurry."

It was the smell that hit him first, the sharp salty taint of blood, sharp and coppery mixing strangely with roses. He had smelled the like before, Rhaegar after that fateful joust presenting his white rose to Lyanna with the blood of beaten foes soaking into the sawdust. And now here she lay, among the blood and roses.

"Ned?" Her voice sounded thin and tired, "Ned why are you here?"

He stared at her, unable to summon any words. After a year of war and death he had hoped for a happier meeting.

She stared up at him wide eyed, "where is Ser Arthur, the Prince bade him keep me safe?"

"Ser Arthur is dead, the war is over and you are safe. I have come to bring you home" He spoke the words but even as he said them he knew they could not be true, he knelt beside her another spasm of pain wracked through her body. She reached for him and crushed his fingers with surprising strength.

"It's too soon, Ned, the baby came too soon and something is wrong the blood will not stop."

"Howland," Ned snapped, "ride back to the town, find a Maester, find anyone just hurry."

The other man turned on his heel and left, Ned heard his boots ringing on the steps as he ran, finally he and his sister were left alone. The child cried out again, a thin and hungry wail. Ned reached down to pluck it from between her bloodied thighs. Lyanna took it and cradled it to her where at last it quietened.

"He, he did this to you? This is his child?"

"Our child." Her breathing was shallow now and she was paler still, "the third dragon, he will complete the dynasty and bring back the dragons."

His sister was dying and dying in madness, he wanted to weep but he had no more tears.

"No," he shook his head, "no he took you away, we have fought for a year to get you back."

"I was not taken," her cheeks were pale now but her eyes flashed bright with their old fire. "I was given to Robert. I chose Rhaegar. You men do not understand that women have hearts and wants just as much as any man."

"We fought a war for you. Robert killed him for what he did to you." The words stuck in Ned's throat. Something in him broke then and he began to weep. He wept for the sister he would lose, for the friends he had lost and at the cruelty of the gods who laughed at the folly of men.

Her grip on his hand grew tighter. "He is...he is dead?" Of course, he realised now she could not have known. "Tell it true Ned, is he gone from me?

"He is gone. I watched his body burn with my own eyes."

But Lyanna did not weep, her jaw set stubbornly, as it had a thousand times over their childhood over the slights and feuds of sibling rivalry. "Then I will be with him soon. But there is still the child. The child must live."

"If Robert learns the truth of this he will..." but Ned could not bring himself to tell Lyanna of Robert's rejoicing at the death of the Targaryen children. It was not a thing to discuss at the hour of death. Lyanna met his gaze with a hard look, she had always seemed to see through him.

"Robert must never know, if the war is lost then the child has no Father and I will not live to be his Mother. You must protect him Ned."

"I do not know how..." he murmured hopelessly, "how am I to explain how I came by a child? How am I to tell Catelyn? She will think that I fathered a bastard, that I dishonored my vows and our marriage."

She looked at him bleakly. "For the love you bear me find a way. The child must live, he is all that I can leave the world, all else is lost to me."

"Robert..." he started, he did not know what he wanted to say, that Robert would have loved her truely. That the war could have been prevented if her willfulness had not led her into such folly. That thousands had died for the sake of a love that had now killed both its ill fated victims. But she was his sister, and he loved her. Her last moments should be comfort.

"Promise me Ned," she whispered, her grip lessening now as the mattress gleamed wet and red, "promise me." Her lips were tinged blue, she was slipping away. He bent low and kissed her forehead and did the only thing he could to bring her peace.

"I vow it. Upon my life's blood."

She looked up and smiled, but it wasn't at him. He held her hand as her eyes closed and until at last her breathing slowed and stopped. Only then did the child start up its cry again, as if it knew that now it was truly lost. But a vow was a vow, he gathered it up in one of the rich blankets.

He had thought the naming of his first child would be a joyous occasion, surrounded by his family and with his wife happy and smiling. He had held the name close in his heart ready for such a time. A name of honour and integrity from a man who had saved him from the Mad King. It seemed the least he could do for a child who would know only pain and the shame of bastardry.

"Jon," he said softly, holding the child against his furs. "Jon Snow, I would take you for my son."

And that done, they waited together for the help that would come too late.


End file.
